What Doesn't Kill You
by Kateniss
Summary: Jax Teller doesn't have much interest in school, let alone American Lit. class. The only redeeming quality about that class, of course, is his table partner, prissy cheerleader Isabelle Martin. One-shot prequel #1 to the "Carry Your Heart" trilogy.


**A/N-I hadn't planned on posting this just yet but figured you guys would like it, especially knowing how things end up for Jax and Isabelle in Carry Your Heart. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

* * *

The halls of Charming High flooded less than a half-second after fourth hour ended and Isabelle bravely pushed out into the throngs to high-tail it to fifth hour. She absolutely hated being late...but she also really had to pee. Everyone and their mother knew Mrs. Anderson never gave out passes after the bell rang so she needed to take care of business now. Unfortunately, Mrs. Anderson's room was also literally on the opposite end of the school and she only had five minutes to pee, get her ass into her assigned seat, and not be tardy. This was going to take a miracle. Or, at the very least, careful utilization of every second.

Because there was no way she was sitting next to Mr. Big Bad Biker Asshole for a whole 53 minutes when she had to pee. It was already torture enough and her mind was already conjuring images of all the new methods of torture she was bringing on herself. No...she needed to make a run for it. After guzzling two cups of coffee and a Red Bull this morning-compliments of a very late night studying for a Criminal Justice test and reading "The Crucible"-it seemed like she'd had to pee every hour on the hour since the day started. There was no way she'd be able to hold it all through class until lunch.

With her mind made up, she dashed into the bathroom near the Tech Ed wing, having learned long ago that the girls' restroom in this wing was almost always empty. This was her best shot at getting to class on time and she took it. After her business was done and she gave herself a quick, once-over in the mirror to readjust her cheer skirt, she whizzed out of the bathroom, only to run right smack into a lean, leathered chest.

She bounced right off of hard muscle and landed flat on her ass, legs and skirt splayed out on the cold tile floor.

"Well, if this isn't my lucky day," a smooth, slightly cocky voice called down to her.

Isabelle winced and then opened her eyes to see Jax Teller grinning down at her like the cat that swallowed the canary.

"Nice to see you too, Jax," she huffed as she desperately tried to rearrange her skirt. She just prayed to God that he hadn't gotten an eyeful of her underwear. That was the last thing she needed right now...besides, if Brandon somehow got wind of it, the ensuing confrontation wouldn't be pretty.

Jax cocked his head to the side and her body felt like it was on fire as his eyes trailed leisurely over her bare legs. He was too good-looking for his own good with his overly-long blonde hair tucked haphazardly behind one ear, his leather cut that read 'prospect' on the back, and that easy, lop-sided grin that had the ability to make any woman in this school swoon-students, teachers, secretaries, and the one female custodian at Charming High, nobody with ovaries was immune and he was well-aware of that. She knew she was no exception. She also knew that she had a boyfriend who would literally spit fire if he knew she'd spent more than a minute in Jax Teller's presence outside of American Lit. class.

Suddenly, his tattooed forearm shot out towards her.

"Well," he shrugged. "I don't mind you sittin' down there like that but I guess I should make an attempt to be a gentleman, don't ya think?"

She just rolled her eyes and ignored his extended hand, choosing instead to go it alone and hoist herself up with the least amount of embarrassment possible. She quickly scrambled to her feet and then bent to snatch up her scattered books and notebooks, dismissing the fact that he folded down to pick up a few stray items she'd missed.

Her eyes glanced at the clock and then they just about popped out of her head.

"Oh shit," Isabelle gasped desperately. "I'm gonna be late...shit, where's my phone?"

"Oh you mean, this little guy?" Jax grinned back at her, dangling her cell phone just barely out of reach when she lunged for it.

"Jax! What are you doing? Give it back!"

He glanced down at the phone in his hand and shrugged. "It's dead so what difference does it make anyways?"

"I forgot my charger...don't look at my stuff! Give it back!"

"Calm down, Iz," he chuckled as he held both hands, phone included, up in defense. "Let's not fly off the handle here."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously at his use of that god-awful nickname...she really, really hated it and other than the fact that he seemed to do it just to piss her off, she couldn't exactly put her finger on why it bothered her so much, when from anyone else, it would be a term of endearment. Maybe her answer was in the question. She tried again to snatch the phone from his hand but he just yanked it away, playfully holding it over her head and just out of reach. And then the bell rang. Her face crumpled in complete horror and then she lunged one more time, in vain, to get that stupid cell phone back.

"I know you don't care about being tardy but I do," she huffed breathlessly. "Can you just give me my phone back...please?"

He rocked back on his heels as he seemed to carefully weigh his options. It wasn't like there was much to figure out; while it was common knowledge he had no problem skipping class when he felt like it, she had never gone down that road before and she wasn't about to start now.

"So you're tardy...what's the big deal? You worried you're gonna get called to the principal's office, Iz? Because I can tell ya from experience it takes a shit ton more than one tardy to land your ass in the office."

"Just give me my phone, Jax," she growled, making his eyes widen with delight. That alone was enough to make her seriously consider taking all the books and notebooks in her hands and smacking him right across the face with them.

"Tell ya what," he started smugly. "I'll hang on to your phone while we walk to class and then when we get there, I'll give it back."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Now you're purposefully trying to piss me off."

He dangled the phone in front of her again and started backpedalling down the now near-empty hallway. "It wouldn't kill you to be tardy for once, Iz. You know, let loose and live a little?"

"Why are you being such an asshole?" she glared back at him.

"Because I can," he shrugged simply.

Knowing she was clearly fighting a losing battle, she blew out an exasperated breath and followed him down the hall. He pivoted on his heel with a smirk to fall into step just a few feet behind her and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end when she realized where his eyes were. She reared her head back only to catch him red-handed and he just wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" she threw back at him hotly.

"Yep," he shrugged again with a sly grin.

"Nice," she shook her head as he fell into step with her. "You know, if I were Tara, I would rip you a new one for that crap."

"Keep dreamin', Iz," Jax waved her phone in front of her face just for good measure. "Tara and I are good...my girl knows where things stand."

She cocked an eyebrow at him as they passed the library; he was taking his sweet time in walking to Mrs. Anderson's and she wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. It was bad enough they were going to have to spend the next 53 minutes together...

"Sure, she does," Isabelle mused sarcastically. "Her and all the other ones, right?"

His lips twitched in amusement. "Hey, just because chicks are pilin' up at my feet doesn't mean I'm bitin'."

"Whatever."

"Glad to see you care, Iz; that's all a guy like me can ask for."

She just rolled her eyes. "You know I have a boyfriend, right?"

For a split second, darkness flashed across his once-twinkling blue eyes. A moment later, the light returned to his eyes like nothing had happened. "Yeah, I know. Bet pretty boy'd have a fuckin' coronary if he saw you talkin' to me like this."

Her eyes darted around anxiously to make sure there weren't any teachers around to either bitch him out for swearing or ream their asses for not being in class. All of that, of course, was to keep the full weight of his words from bouncing around aimlessly in her brain.

"Yeah, well, I can't imagine why," she shot back pointedly.

"Let's just say if wouldn't exactly be a fair fight, if you know what I mean," Jax replied soberly. "Fucker wouldn't know what hit him."

"Always a pleasure, Jax," she muttered under her breath, earning her a playful elbow in her side.

"Aw, come on, now; you know you love this havin' this little moment with me."

"I'd rather walk through hell covered in gasoline than spend any more time with you than necessary."

His free hand flew over his heart and he turned to her with a playful pretense of anguish. "That hurts me, darlin'. That really hurts me...after everything we've been through?"

"Wow..."

"You really need to lighten up, you know that?"

"Shut up, Jax."

That did nothing but coax a low chuckle from his throat and he just shook his head. Thankfully, they were now within arm's reach of Mrs. Anderson's room. Isabelle could hear Mrs. Anderson rattling off some instructions and reminders about upcoming due dates and she felt a rush of anxiety envelope her. Oh God...she was missing things. Their teacher was giving information that she was missing. Oh shit. They had a reading assignment the night before...oh no, what if she was missing a pop quiz? Mrs. Anderson didn't let you make those up if you were unexcused...

Jax seemed to sense her tension and good-naturedly held out her phone for her to take. "Relax, Iz...it's only a few minutes; you didn't miss anything."

"Maybe," she offered weakly as she swiped it from his hand, unsure of why she was even still standing here with him in the first place.

"You know," he grinned down at her. "You could've just high-tailed it over here and gotten your phone back from me in class."

Her breath hitched in her throat at his words. Everything had just happened so fast and then she was following him down the hallway before she even really knew what she was doing. What had she been doing anyways? Making conversation, joking around with him...they'd spoken more to each other in the last five minutes than they had almost the entire school year. Even more unsettling, why had her first inclination been to spend any time talking to him in the first place? She probably could've just made a mad grab for her phone and skidded away from him before he could wrangle it back from her.

"Don't flatter yourself, Teller," she huffed. "You're not as smooth as you think you are."

His eyebrows rose suggestively, his lips twisting into an amused smirk as he held the classroom door open for her. "Ladies first."

They'd barely passed the threshold when Mrs. Anderson looked from the papers she was holding and shot them an annoyed glare from underneath her glasses.

"Thank you for joining us, Mr. Teller, Ms. Martin. Care to explain?"

"Well, Mrs. Anderson, Iz here was having a nervous breakdown about being late," Jax jumped a little when Isabelle smacked him in the arm. "And I was just talkin' her off the ledge...you know, doin' my good deed for the day."

"Well, isn't that sweet of you," Mrs. Anderson rose an eyebrow at them. "You have excellent timing because we were just about to start a pop quiz on Acts 2 and 3."

Jax grimaced and ran a hand over his face. "Aw, come on, Mrs. Anderson. I had a busy night last night and..."

"Too bad, so sad, Mr. Teller," Mrs. Anderson rested her hand on her hip and then turned around to que up the quiz questions on the projector.

He dropped down dejectedly into the chair beside her, like he'd actually believed he'd be able to talk his way out of this one. She immediately jumped into action to make up for some lost class time and flipped open her notebook so she could get to work on the questions. With a quick glance to her left and finding him staring back at her expectantly, she tore out a page from the notebook and passed it over to him with a sigh.

She was too lost in her scribbling down some quick responses to the general plot questions when she felt Jax nudge her and lean over to mutter: "You actually read that shit last night?"

"Shut up," she whispered back. "You're gonna get me in even more trouble."

"Okay, okay," he held his hands up before digging into one of his pockets for a pen. She was a little shocked he even had that with him today. Usually, she ended up having to borrow one of those to him too, even if he always did return it to her at the end of class.

He went to work on his answers, which she imagined were going to be complete bullshit, shifting his body away from her and playfully covering up his paper with one hand so she couldn't see his responses. Since Mrs. Anderson always had them grade each other's quizzes in class, she was sure whatever he had in store for her this time was going to be a doozy of epic proportions. Given that he never did his homework, it seemed like he was in a constant struggle to one-up himself on off the wall, wildly inappropriate answers. Everyone knew Mrs. Anderson only really looked at the score on the top so she figured his responses were more for her benefit than anyone else's.

"Alright," Mrs. Anderson called out from the front of the room. "Take a second and finish up the last question you're on then pass your paper to your neighbor."

With a deep breath, Isabelle glanced down at the chicken scratches she'd become accustomed to and almost burst out laughing as Mrs. Anderson starting going over potential answers.

1) What does the reader learn about the problems in the Proctors' marriage?

_The wife needs to put out more._

2) What does Elizabeth explain during Rev. Hale's visit?

_She sees dead people._

3) How is Hale a 'broken minister'?

_Easy. He fell._

4) What behavior of Abby's does Proctor bring to the court's attention?

_She's a slut._

5) Why does Elizabeth ultimately choose to lie for her husband?

_Because she's a woman._

Well, he kinda sorta got number four right. Biting her lip to keep from laughing out loud, she quickly circled the total and slid it back to him. He took the paper from her with a cocky smirk, knowing full well that a 1 out of 5 was a gift, and then she glanced down at her paper. He'd graciously circled her 5 out of 5 score at the top and underneath it had written: "100% for the cheerleader, way to buck the stereotype".

She just rolled her eyes and shook her head, unable to keep the smile from crossing her face. He wasn't so bad to be around when he actually put forth an effort into not being such an asshole. For a fleeting moment, she wondered what it would be like if their circumstances were different, if they weren't trapped in their 'stereotypes', as he'd so aptly put it. Maybe in another life, they could be friends.

When Mrs. Anderson turned on the movie version of the play about ten minutes later, Jax promptly put his head down on his side of the table and then he was snoring within a matter of minutes. It didn't matter that this was actually a pretty interesting movie, not to mention play, when you factored in the history that went along with it. But school, in general, didn't seem to interest Jax all that much.

When the bell rang, Isabelle hit him lightly on the back of his leather cut, making him jump up at the contact.

"Oh shit," he murmured sleepily. "Did I miss any more tits, Iz?"

"I hate to break it to you, Jax, but I think that was only in the beginning of the movie."

"Oh," he just shrugged as he stretched his arms lazily over his head. "Then I guess I didn't miss anything, did I?"

"Guess not," she replied with a weak laugh. She gathered up her books and notebooks, eager to get to lunch and away from him for the rest of the day. He slid out from his chair to pad lightly behind her towards the door and she couldn't stop herself from shivering when she felt him lean down over her shoulder.

"You know," he whispered lowly into her ear. "You're a pretty cool chick when you wanna be."

"Thanks," she called over her shoulder. "I guess."

He just winked back at her as he followed her out the door. Tara was leaning up against the wall right next to their classroom, her arms folded across her chest like a petulant, perturbed child. It wasn't like Jax had exactly kept her waiting that long; the bell had literally just rang. How did she get over here so fast anyways?

"Hey Tara," Isabelle greeted her with a small smile.

"Hi Isabelle," Tara forced a smile across her lips, her hands already reaching out to grasp the edges of Jax's leather cut. "Good luck at the pep rally today...you know, with your cheers and all."

Isabelle was pretty proud of herself for not narrowing her eyes into tiny, bitchy slits. While she and Tara had never really been on friendly terms, it seemed like ever since this semester started, Tara had been more than a little hostile towards her. And while she instinctively knew it had everything to do with the fact that her assigned seat was right next to Tara's boyfriend, the fact that Tara would even be remotely jealous was difficult to wrap her head around.

"Keep practicin' those high kicks, Iz," Jax called over his shoulder as he swung an arm around Tara's shoulders.

Isabelle blew out an exasperated breath as Tara's laugh echoed down the hallway. She'd seen that view, the two of them walking away together like that with Jax's arm slung around Tara's shoulders, every day since January and every time she saw it, she felt more uneasy about it than the time before. There was something about the desperate way Tara clung to him that didn't sit well with her, even if her concern made zero sense. It wasn't like her and Jax were actually friends. All he was to her was an annoying, albeit sometimes entertaining, table partner in American Lit. class.

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Jax plopped down onto their usual lunch table in the cafeteria and perused the crowd carefully. His eyes found Tara in the middle of one of the lines almost instantly and he grinned back when her face lit up in a bright smile. Then he took a generous bite of his apple, wishing this day would just be over already. As soon as lunch came around, the rest of the school day just seemed to drag and today, being Friday, felt more torturous than the day before. The club was throwing their usual Samcro Friday night party and while he knew he'd spend the majority of the evening runnings beers with Ope, he was grateful just to be a part of it.

All they had to do was sit tight until graduation and then they'd both be patched in. There was absolutely nothing in this world he wanted more, next to Tara face down in between his legs for the rest of the day. Everything was slowly starting to fall into place for him now-he was close to being a full-fledged, active member of the club, he had a kickass old lady who'd made it perfectly clear she'd do just about anything he wanted, and he was breaking out of this goddamn place in less than a month.

While he had to admit he enjoyed the opportunity to socialize with his friends without getting reamed out by Gemma for doing it on T-M's dime, the actual school part really sucked. Next to his shop classes, it was all just one boring parade of useless information and all his teachers knew he was just in it for the diploma. So he figured he might as well make the most of his time and have as much fun as humanly possible while trapped inside Charming High.

His eyes settled on the flash of white and blue on the other side of the cafeteria and found himself grinning. She really could work that cheerleading skirt like a pro. The best part about it was that Isabelle didn't even seem to realize how all the guys at this school drooled into a puddle at her feet when she walked by. He knew he was no exception, even though he figured he did a slightly better job of masking it. By playing off how obviously attractive she was as a way get under her skin, his victory was two-fold: he got to watch Isabelle fume and he got to look at her without earning the wrath of Tara. If he was just making fun of her, no harm, no foul.

Besides, he enjoyed their back and forth banter during fourth hour just as much as he knew she secretly did. Other than shop, it was by far his favorite class of the day. It had taken him a little while to get a handle on her and he'd been thrown by how smart she actually was. Although he'd been messing with her by writing that stereotype comment on her paper today, it really wasn't all that far from the truth. Isabelle really wasn't like anyone he'd ever met before, let alone had to spend any real sort of time with. As soon as he'd pinned down what made her squirm, he'd exploited it with growing delight every day since the beginning of the semester.

He was thrown out of his revelry when Tara took the seat next to him. She wound her free hand over his thigh and glanced over at him with sexy, hooded dark eyes. Shit, he knew what she was going to ask him before she even said it...they'd had this conversation earlier this morning and he'd held his ground.

"Please, Jax?" she asked sweetly.

"Nope," he shook his head furiously before taking a big bite from his burger. "Not doin' it. You can't make me."

"It wouldn't kill you to go to one pep rally, you know," Tara shot back with mild annoyance. "It's the last one of the year and since you've never been to any before, you might as well just suck it up and go."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Come on," she pouted. "I'll make it worth your while..."

His eyebrows rose at the suggestion and he leaned over to whisper into her ear: "You mean it?"

She nodded quickly as she licked her lips, signalling to him that she was, indeed, serious.

"Why do you wanna go so bad anyways? You've never been into all that u-rah-rah shit."

"Senior year's almost over," Tara shrugged simply. "I guess I'm just feeling a little sentimental."

"Well," he considered his words here carefully. "If it really means that much to you and you're gonna make it up to me, I don't see why not, darlin'."

She wrapped an arm around his neck to bring herself close enough to lightly kiss his cheek. "Thanks, Jax."

"Anything for you, darlin'."

But by the time he was sitting at the top of the bleachers as the rest of the student body piled into the gym, he was seriously starting to regret this decision. He'd never been a big fan of crowds, at least not this kind of a crowd, and he starting to feel a little claustrophobic as he pressed up against the cold cement wall behind him. The band was playing some stupid song he barely recognized and all the teachers were aimlessly directing everyone else where to go. On a normal day, he and Ope would just bail and head back to T-M. Classes were always a little bit shorter whenever there was a pep rally so getting out early and getting the hell out of there had always been the more appealing option. But no, because he'd let his dick do his thinking for him, he was sitting next to Tara on the bleachers. And as he cast Opie a weary glance next to him, he knew his best friend was in the exact same boat.

"See, this isn't so bad, right?" Tara practically had to yell in his ear over the music.

He figured it was probably better to just nod his head like a good boy but he refused to clap. There was no way he was clapping along to this shit. And then his eyes scanned the gym floor only to land directly on Isabelle Martin. In her cheerleading skirt. Doing high kicks. Christ, if he looked hard enough, he could see the bottoms of her undershorts and then his elbows were on his knees as he leaned forward intently, straining to get a better view of her.

Suddenly, his side of his skull exploded from the force of Tara's bitter, angry punch.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, grabbing at the side of his head. "Jesus Christ, what was that for?"

"You know what that was for," Tara glowered at him. "I thought your eyes just about fell out of their sockets. I'm sitting right here, you know."

His eyes widened as he realized he'd been caught red-handed and heard Opie chuckling next to him.

He rubbed the back of his head, still eyeing Tara warily. "It's not my fault she's flashing the entire school. Everyone else was lookin' too."

"I don't give a shit about everyone else," Tara shot back hotly.

Point taken. Tara had a jealous streak that he'd yet to completely pin down. He wasn't entirely sure it was just hot or hot with a little bit of annoying mixed in. So, in an effort to get everything he'd been promised tonight, he did his best to keep his eyes focused anywhere but in Isabelle Martin's direction.

That was definitely easier said than done. Even from way up in the bleachers, her tanned, smooth legs looked impossibly long and he had to imagine every guy in this place was discreetly adjusting his pants right now. Every high kick, every jump, every twirl and he was finding it more and more difficult to keep his attention elsewhere. Shit...if he'd known every pep rally was like this, he would've made a point to attend more often. With flexibility like that, he couldn't stop his mind from wondering if she was really the good girl she made herself out to be. Davis was a lucky bastard if he'd gotten into her skirt already. How did she not realize that she drove everyone up the wall like this? She was just happily clapping away with the music and enjoying herself...he wished he could say the same for himself but biology had other plans. Instead, he spent the next thirty minutes doing everything in his power to keep himself from losing his shit in the middle of the gym.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd worked so hard for anything, especially given the fact that his old lady was currently watching him like a hawk. Thankfully, he somehow survived with all body parts intact and was shuffling down the bleachers like a good little sheep. He let Tara lead him over to her locker, where she grabbed her backpack and some notebooks-which he had no intention of letting her even think about opening this weekend.

When they were making their way through the hall again to push towards the exit, he caught another flash of white and blue out of the corner of his eye. Isabelle was walking towards them, arm in arm with her douchebag football player boyfriend, who was leaning over to whisper something in her ear. Jax watched, almost mesmerized, as she threw her head back and laughed, her blonde hair dangling easily off her shoulders and her blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

He was barely cognizant of the fact that Tara squeezed herself even more tightly underneath his arm as Isabelle and Davis approached. He'd often found himself wondering why Isabelle bothered with a loser like Brandon Davis in the first place, who was nothing more than a dumb jock with a size complex. But it was none of his business. They weren't friends...not even close and he figured that Isabelle probably wouldn't even give him the time of day if it weren't for American Lit. class.

Their worlds were just so different it wasn't even funny. Not even close to being on the same playing field. And in month, they would graduate from high school and probably never see each other again. She'd go off to some big, expensive Ivy League school and he would stay here in Charming with Tara, waiting for his chance to fulfill his legacy.

So he couldn't figure out why, as they passed by each other in the hallway, Isabelle's eyes darted over to him for just a split second. It was one of those blink and you missed it moments and he almost wondered if he'd been imagining it. But then she did it again and there was no way he could mistake it for something else.

His mouth curved into one side of his face and he could've sworn he saw her bite her lip.

And then, just like that, Isabelle was already behind him and he couldn't afford to look over his shoulder at her. Tara wouldn't spare him any mercy if she caught him yet again and he didn't want to risk the promise of what the night had in store for him. But that feeling was difficult to shake, even as he swung his leg over the side of his bike and felt Tara wrap her arms around his waist. It was the same feeling that settled deep within the pit of his stomach every time he approached their table in Mrs. Anderson's class and it was the same feeling he'd felt when they'd passed each other in the hallway.

He had everything wanted right in front of him, he mused as he sped off through the school's parking lot with Tara clinging to him. He was free some school for the weekend, free to have some beers at the clubhouse tonight, free to spend some quality time with his girl. He had his bike; he had air in his lungs and the wind in his hair. Hell, he'd even gotten a 1 out of 5 on his pop quiz today, which was a new record for him.

So, in spite of all that, why was he sitting here thinking about Isabelle Martin?

* * *

**A/N-Let me know what you think! If I get enough requests, I could probably be talked into writing a few more like this ;)**


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